


Delictum

by whatkindoftea (haeli)



Category: DBSK|Tohoshinki|TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haeli/pseuds/whatkindoftea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Changmin is arrogant, snarky, and a wicked quidditch player.  He’s also Yunho’s favorite post-game tradition</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delictum

It doesn’t matter how many matches he’s played in the last four and a half years, Yunho can never manage to eat anything the morning of a game.  Too many butterflies, too many formations running through his head, and too many people coming by to wish him luck and say that everyone’s counting on him.  All of these pressures feel about one hundred times worse when they’re playing Slytherin.

 

“Just relax okay?” says Jaejoong, a Ravenclaw and Yunho’s self proclaimed best friend, who is decidedly too uncoordinated to be a quidditch player.  Therefore, Yunho can’t help but think he does not really understand the fact that it feels like there are doxies trying to punch holes in his stomach.

 

Jaejoong is about halfway through the well-rehearsed pre-match script of trying to calm down the Gryffindor captain and best chaser the house has seen in ten years.  He is also attempting to get Yunho to drink some water because “the last thing we need is for you to dehydrate like you did last spring”.

 

The friendly reminder is accompanied by water forcefully poured down his throat.

 

Spluttering and now wondering if it’s possible to drown in his goblet, Yunho manages to wrench himself out of his best friend’s hands, sending him a mild glare.  It’s the best he can muster up when there’s truth behind the words. He _did_ fall off his broom and break his wrist last year – nearly costing Gryffindor the match and their spot in the Quidditch Cup final.

 

The conditions for the match today promise to be muggy and oppressive after three days of rain followed by one of the hottest Aprils Saturdays Hogwarts has seen for a long time.  Yunho cringes at the thought of how gross and humid his late morning is going to be.  As he contemplates this, Jaejoong attempts to drown him again, emptying the remaining water on Yunho’s face and uniform, thoroughly drenching the fronts of his robe and sweater.

 

“Careful, captain,” says a voice dripping with teasing confidence from behind Yunho, “I wouldn’t want you to miss the match because you couldn’t survive a cup of water in the hands of that aberration.”

 

Yunho doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is – he can practically see the smirk playing across the wide mouth.  But he turns around anyway.

 

“You never seem to be using that term respectfully, Changmin,” Yunho mutters as he faces the younger boy, taking in forever-long legs and glaring at the green and silver colors of his quidditch robes.  He pretends his heart doesn’t accelerate at the way the younger boy’s smirk flickers into a grin.

 

“‘Aberration’ isn’t supposed to be respectful.”

 

“I meant 'captain',” Yunho deadpans back.

 

“Well, I don’t really respect you all that much,” Changmin grins down at Yunho, eyes lingering over the wet and clinging red and gold uniform.

 

Jaejoong starts making gagging noises and it takes all of Yunho’s discipline not to smash his ridiculously pretty face into the plate of eggs.

 

Changmin seems to be going for snotty rather than his usual pregame condescension and derision, and Yunho’s not sure which he prefers yet.  This is almost flirtatious by Changmin’s standards, and it’s catching him slightly off balance in terms of snappy comebacks, and his supposed best friend’s smart aleck sound effects are less than helpful.

 

Yunho only manages a “whatever” and feels like a completely incompetent moron.  But apparently morons can be charming because Changmin’s teasing grin softens around the edges at Yunho’s flailing.

 

Smile still in place, Changmin excuses himself. “See you on the quidditch pitch.  Maybe if you manage to stay on your broom you’ll actually get the quaffle past me, I doubt it.” And with a wink that doesn’t surprise Yunho at all and an annoyed glance in Jaejoong’s direction, Changmin moves to join the rest of the Slytherin quidditch team at his house’s table.

 

“What a brat.”

 

Yunho sighs before turning around to face Jaejoong, replying, “Yeah, he is, but what can you do about it?”

 

Flicking his hair, as he tends to do when irritated, Jaejoong shoots back, “Why do you talk to him again?”

 

Yunho thinks about when Changmin smiles until his eyes mismatch and when he lets the sarcasm slide away into something warm and comfortable.  But rather than giving Jaejoong that kind of black mail, he says, “Because it’s not every year you meet a Slytherin who might actually be human?”

 

Jaejoong snorts and replies, “And a half-blood at that.” A leer curls across his lips, “Although I’m sure there are other attributes that appeal to you more than his blood – a number of them physical, I have no doubt.”

 

Yunho feels heat tingeing his ears and ducks his head even though it doesn’t stop Jaejoong from seeing everything, the bastard.

 

\---

 

For the record, sometimes Yunho hates it when he’s right.

 

The quidditch field is heavy with humidity and the match seems to move at half speed, formations and executions sluggish in the heat.  Ten minutes into the game, and the front and back of Yunho’s robes are sticking persistently to his skin – as are the robes of every other player on the pitch.

 

It’s absolutely brutal.  The heat makes players irritable, quicker to commit fouls out of frustration.  It also leaves Madame Hooch equally short tempered, not letting the slightest punishable offenses go unnoticed.  Yunho’s pretty sure that the match set a new school record for most penalty shots awarded once Jessica, a Slytherin chaser, is awarded the thirty seventh.

 

The weather and chippy play only make it that much sweeter when Gryffindor manages to pull off a win from one hundred and thirty points behind.  The look on Changmin’s face after Hoya, a third year, catches the snitch at the foot of the Slytherin goal posts is nothing short of vicious.

 

As Madame Hooch blows the final whistle, Yunho lands on the pitch with his six other teammates, considering a moment of sportsmanship as the captain.  However, a few members of both teams immediately set off to their respective locker rooms, and Yunho supposes that the handshakes will have to wait.

 

As he leads the last few players into off the pitch, he throws a glance over his shoulder at the Slytherin Keeper.  Changmin’s eyes are already locked on him and radiating something like determination; Yunho averts his gaze almost immediately, attributing his sudden spike in heart rate to the adrenaline rush from the win.

 

\---

 

He feels disgusting and tired, slick with his own sweat as he finishes taking off the pads and guards running up his legs and arms and across his torso.  He’s still wearing the rest of his robes, having just finished the mandatory “post game pep talk” with the gleeful Gryffindor team, when he hears quidditch boots returning to the locker room, pausing just inside the door by the sound of it.

 

Once again, Yunho doesn’t really need to turn around to know who it is – the ritual well learned in the last year.  But he does anyway.

 

Changmin is standing just inside the entrance; his weight slouched through one leg as he watches for Yunho’s undivided attention.  The stance lends itself to full on staring, and Yunho has never been one to refuse such open invitations.

 

He looks just as sweaty as Yunho feels, but he wears the post-match ruggedness effortlessly.   His long, dark fringe is pushed back off his face, leaving his sharp features completely exposed for Yunho to admire.    And he does, desire punching its way through the exhaustion because, god damn, who looks that good after a quidditch match?

 

It’s only when Changmin grins that Yunho realizes he said that last bit out loud.

 

He feels tension spread across his shoulders, unsure if Changmin is feeling aggressive or wicked after losing the match.  It tends to be a tossup between the two with the Slytherin.

 

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Changmin mutters as he moves closer, stopping only once he obliterates the older boy’s personal space.  Apparently it’s wicked, if the way Changmin’s eyes pour over Yunho is any indication.

 

They should probably find a better place to conduct this affair than the abandoned locker rooms of the quidditch pitch.  Because if anyone from the Gryffindor team wandered back in for a forgotten tie or wand or what-have-you, Yunho would have a difficult time explaining why he is currently allowing the Slytherin keeper to cage him in against his own locker and shove his quidditch robe off his shoulders.

 

But in reality the only thing Yunho’s thinking about as he grabs at the front of Changmin’s uniform is just how little he cares.

 

It never takes them long to get into it.   As soon as he yanks Changmin forward those last few inches, they’re kissing hard and fast and messy.   And God, Yunho loves it.

 

And Changmin does too.  He’s pulling at Yunho, crushing their bodies together, and nearly toppling them over with his enthusiasm.  Yunho stumbles backwards, the locker digging into his shoulder blade, and the sudden impact makes him break the kiss gasping through the brief pain, mouth slick with saliva.

 

Changmin, ever the sly opportunist, moves his hands quickly to the front of Yunho’s pants, ripping through the button and zipper while Yunho tries to maintain his balance.

 

“Fuck, Changmin,” Yunho can’t stifle his moan as the young boy moves to grope him through his underwear.  It’s a little too rough, but one of the benefits of being seventeen is being able to get hard pretty much on command.

 

Yunho knows that he sounds needy and embarrassing as Changmin continues to tease him, and once again he finds that he doesn’t really care.  All he wants is Changmin to touch him and not stop what he’s doing. But Changmin is a bastard who does things how he wants, and before Yunho can protest the younger’s hands are back on his chest and moving up to fist into his hair.

 

They kiss again, desperation now an edge that has their teeth clacking together, and Changmin is making noises at the back of his throat that are driving Yunho up the fucking wall.

 

“Wanna do something for you,” Changmin breathes into his mouth, and Yunho can only let out a shuddering breath of acknowledgement.  He’s fairly certain that if they don’t do something soon, he’ll rupture something important.

 

But thank God because Changmin’s hands are back at the top of his quidditch pants, pushing them down his thighs and dragging his underwear with them.  With another press of lips and an obscene smile, Changmin drops to his knees.

 

“Fuck,” Yunho pushes back against the lockers and closes his eyes because he _knows_ that he’ll rupture something watching Changmin lick his lips as he pulls at his dick like that.

 

Changmin moves his tongue slowly from base to tip once experimentally, situating himself and gaining some sort of bearing before he just goes for it and takes half of Yunho’s length into his mouth and sucks.

 

He’s always been too ambitious for his own good, Yunho thinks desperately as he groans too loudly at the unbearable heat surrounding him.  Changmin tries to smile around the cock in his mouth, but it proves difficult.  Instead he growls and slowly drags up the length, tonguing the slit and using his hand to stroke up and down twice before going down on Yunho again.

 

And Yunho knows that he’s probably going to die in the next couple of minutes, because he can’t breathe at the feeling of Changmin trying to take all of him at once.  It’s too hot and too tight and Changmin looks too fucking good on his knees like that, absorbed in his mission to give Yunho the absolute best blowjob he’s ever had.  Yunho wants to tell him he doesn’t need to try so hard, because he’s never had another to compare it to, but there’s no way he can form words right now. Everything he tries to say comes out as a choked moan or Changmin’s name or something blasphemous.

 

As Changmin adds just _that much more_ pressure, Yunho cries out and snaps his hips forward, practically deranged by what Changmin is doing to him.  The movement forces in the last couple of inches that Changmin hadn’t quite managed, and he hears the wet choking noise of Changmin gagging on it. Coughing and eyes running, Changmin pulls off, saliva streaked down his chin and smeared across his lips.  He’s a mess.

 

“Shit, Changminnie, sorry, I’m so sorry,” Yunho gasps, worried that he’s hurt the younger boy.

 

“No, shut up,” Changmin’s voice is rough as he put his hands against Yunho’s hips to hold him in place. “I’m not done, I wan’t this.”  And he’s right back to it.

 

Yunho nearly concusses himself when he snaps his head back into the locker.  If he was making any sense before, he’s definitely not now because the feeling of Changmin sucking him into his throat is melting any and all remaining coherency.  He’s so glad that Changmin has him pinned down because he has no control whatsoever and his hips are thrusting up mindlessly, desperate for more of Changmin’s devastating mouth.

 

“Changmin, fuck _fuck_ , oh God,” Yunho pants, feeling his orgasm wrapping tighter and tighter through his body.  He moans, and Changmin hums in appreciation, moving up, working his tongue across the length as he does, before plunging back down hungrily.

 

Breathing heavily through his nose, Changmin slowly tries to take all of Yunho once more.  Finally opening his eyes, Yunho snaps his gaze forward and down to focus on Changmin through the daze of his arousal when he feels the Slytherin’s throat tighten around him, making a hollow clicking noise as he works past his gag reflex.

 

Christ he’s not going to last any longer.  Yunho wants to warn Changmin because he’s pretty sure this is his first time too, but he can’t think over the sounds Changmin is making.  Wet, slurping noises as he comes back up for air, groaning before diving back in, swallowing more than he can handle, and gagging himself insistently on Yunho’s cock.

 

Shuddering forward, Yunho desperately tries to stave off his orgasm at the same time knowing he can’t.  Moving his hands from where they had been clutching at the shoulders of green quidditch robes, Yunho runs his fingers through Changmin’s hair and pulls urgently at the back, trying to let Changmin know.

 

“I… Min, I’m going, I can’t stop… Oh God,” he groans, feeling everything unwinding and fraying as he starts to stumble over the edge.

 

Changmin growls at Yunho and looks up, a hungry glint in his eye.  It’s shameless and dark, and Yunho feels his hips roll forward once, twice more before he’s coming, Changmin’s name tumbling out in harsh pants. Changmin works him through it until Yunho’s spent.

 

Pulling away, Changmin spits the come onto the ground by Yunho’s feet before pulling the dazed Gryffindor down towards him.  Yunho doesn’t particularly care; his knees were about to collapse anyway.  His mind is still buzzing from the orgasm as he slides to the ground, and feels Changmin straddle his waist and lean in for a kiss.

 

“Christ,” Yunho mumbles into the kiss, “baby, that was amazing.” And he feels like an idiot because it was better than amazing, but he can’t figure out how to say it to the other boy without being called cheesy.

 

Changmin smirks against Yunho’s mouth like the brat he is, absorbing the praise and letting it go to his head.  Yunho can tell that he’s about to say something cocky and ruin everything, so he moves his lips to the Slytherin’s ear and pulls on it with light teeth while he reaches to undo the other boy’s pants.

 

Changmin moans and rests his head on Yunho’s shoulder as he starts to slowly get the younger boy off, hips languidly rolling forward into the hand wrapped around his dick.  Yunho smiles and continues stroking Changmin, enjoying the muffled sounds coming from the younger boy’s mouth and the warm breath on his neck.  It’s no surprise that Changmin doesn’t last long, and he comes with a gasp and a shudder, making a mess of Yunho’s uniform.

 

“Sorry,” he says with a small smile that makes Yunho suspect he’s really not sorry at all.  But Changmin reaches into his robes that he managed to keep on through the touching and kissing and everything else, and pulls out his wand.  With a brief mutter of _scourgify_ , the mess is gone, and he’s pulling Yunho to his feet as he stands.

 

Unable to stop the stupid grin that spreads across his face, Yunho pulls Changmin in for another kiss instead of saying “thank you” because he knows the other boy will just flick him on the forehead to cover up his own embarrassment and belittle the Gryffindor.  It’s slower and relaxed, no desperation, and Yunho melts a bit and feels himself smile.

 

Pulling away, Changmin smoothes back his hair and returns Yunho’s smile. “You better get going, or people will start wondering where you’ve gotten to, Captain.”

 

Yunho had already forgotten about what was by now sure to be a party in full swing in the common room.   Changmin usually has that sort of amnesia-inducing affect on him, but he’s not going to let the Slytherin know… at least not yet.

 

With another quick kiss, and a brief squeeze to the chaser’s hand, Changmin exits the locker room without a glance back, quidditch boots quiet on the ground and green robes fluttering out of sight.  Yunho wants to follow him and forget the stupid party and spend the rest of the day with Changmin, hiding from the scorching heat and teachers somewhere that’s quiet and theirs.

 

Yunho knows he’s completely out of his mind and wrapped around Changmin’s little finger, but he really doesn’t care.


End file.
